


And Things Will Change

by orphan_account



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-02
Updated: 2014-01-02
Packaged: 2018-01-07 02:44:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1114555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock upsets the wrong woman and wakes up one morning a female. It’s quite the learning experience, especially when John starts acting strangely. What exactly is his friend hiding?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for **mildred_bobbin** over at Livejournal for the 2013 Holmestice Exchange. My beta **swissmarg** is a godsend of a beta. One of the things my recipient wanted was a genderswap story, and I had never written that before. I still think my beta deserves a co-writing credit for all the work but **swissmarg** says no, so I offer up my heartiest thanks instead and the opinion that the story is a million times better with the help.

He felt strange when he woke up. Heavier in some places, lighter in others. Still fuzzy from his slumber, he lazily moved his hands along his body. Yes, he felt breasts and could tell other parts were _definitely_ missing. If he didn’t know better he’d swear he was…female. This? This was fascinating, but it was also not very good. He had never thought he might turn into a woman. It was outside the range of possibilities of things he would ever consider happening to him. Of course, four possibilities for the cause of his current predicament ran through his mind, but he was more interested in cataloguing the physical sensations at the moment.

He got out of bed and moved around. That was also strange. He knew his center of mass was different as a man, but to experience it firsthand meant it was going to take some getting used to. He walked around a bit until he got to his mirror and stared. He lifted up his shirt, then lowered his pants. Yes. Definitely a female. This was going to pose problems.

“Sherlock?” A brief knock sounded on the door. “Are you eating this morning?” John asked. John was not going to take this well. Last night his best mate had been male, and today he was female. It was confusing to Sherlock; he imagined it would be doubly so to John. Sherlock could at least be a bit rational about everything; he wasn't sure John could be, or that he should. But if he hid it would be worse.

“Something has happened,” he said, not in the slightest surprised that his voice was now feminine. It was still low, a sultry alto with a tinge of a higher range, and it was quite throaty.

“Sorry. I didn't realize you had company,” John said from the other side of the door, and Sherlock could well imagine the look of surprise on his face. “I'll leave you two alone.”

“John, I don't have company,” he said, opening the door. “Something has happened, and apparently I'm a woman.”

John stared, the surprised look on his face from the idea that Sherlock might have female company sliding into a look of outright shock. “That's not possible,” he got out weakly.

“But apparently it has,” Sherlock said, grousing slightly.

John's eyes narrowed. “How do I know this isn't some elaborate prank? Tell me something only Sherlock would know.”

Sherlock sighed. “You wrote an elaborate love poem to your last girlfriend. I warned you against sending it because she was cheating on you with her boss. So you decided to surprise her with flowers and you walked in on a tryst in her office. You came back and gave the flowers to Mrs. Hudson and proceeded to get very drunk, and only stopped when I carted you off to bed. You had a hangover and ended up calling in sick the next day and not accompanying me on my case.” Sherlock glared at John. “That was last week.”

John's eyes widened. “Bloody hell,” he said in a low voice. “It really is you.”

“Yes, it really is me,” Sherlock retorted, exasperated. “I want to find out how this happened, and why, and what we can do to reverse it.”

“What about that Mrs. McManus, the one you interviewed who fancied herself some sort of witch?” John said, still looking slightly dazed.

“That's a bunch of bollocks,” Sherlock said.

“Well, you're obviously a woman now. I wouldn’t have believed it if I didn’t have the evidence right in front of me.”

Sherlock went to make a snide reply then stopped. John was pointing out the obvious, but it was a very valid point. He _was_ now a woman. He must have angered someone enough for them to take drastic action. “Whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth,” he murmured.

“Let’s assume the truth is magic is involved,” John said gamely. “All right. We just need to figure out who, and why, and if there’s any way to reverse it.”

As if Sherlock hadn’t thought of that himself. The problem was, he wasn’t quite sure if he was ever going to be able to fix it. “I have to go out,” he said suddenly, making to step past John.

“Whoa, whoa,” John said, reaching out to grab his arm but pulling it back at the last moment. “You aren’t going anywhere in clothing like that. Do you have clothing that fits?” John asked. “Your shirts have always been a bit on the tight side. I don't think any of them will fit…well, those,” he said, gesturing to Sherlock’s chest.

Sherlock frowned. This was a complication he hadn’t expected. “I don’t intend on remaining like this for long. But perhaps one outfit wouldn’t be amiss.” He couldn’t exactly go running around London in his dressing gown.

John got an amused look on his face. “Easier said than done, mate. We'll figure out something for you to wear down to the shops and then we'll take a little shopping tour.”

Sherlock nodded. “You're taking this very well,” he noted.

“I rather have to. If I want the old you back, I have to start thinking of how to solve your case.”

“I only became a woman. I didn't lose my intellect,” Sherlock pointed out.

“I'm not saying you did. But you don't want the whole world to know you're a woman, do you?”

He shook his head. “No, not particularly.”

“Then I need to be the face of the case while you stay in the background. Think of it as you being the wizard behind the curtain.” Sherlock scrunched his face up in confusion. “It's a 'Wizard of Oz' reference.”

“I still don't get it.”

“I didn't think you would,” John said with a half smile. “Go figure out what you can still fit into. I’ll fix us some toast and then we can start trying to get it all sorted out.”

Sherlock nodded and went back to his room. This whole experience was surreal, but at least John wasn't going into hysterics. He was extremely thankful for that. John was right about the shirts; he couldn’t get anything buttoned. He had a similar problem with the trousers, his hips having apparently expanded by three and a half inches. He dug around his disguises in the bottom of his closet and finally came up with a pair of workman’s coveralls. He put them on over one of his lounging shirts and emerged scowling in the kitchen. John shoved a piece of toast at him and went back upstairs, returning with one of his jumpers. 

“Here, try this.”

Sherlock, beyond caring what he looked like at this point and just wanting to get the whole thing over with as soon as possible, yanked the offensive article of clothing over his head, then bundled his greatcoat on over all of it. At least that did fit, as did his shoes. The sooner they got this taken care of, the better.


	2. Chapter 2

It took far longer to get clothes than Sherlock expected. How did women ever find anything that fit properly? He refused skirts and dresses, instead thrusting his arm imperiously out from the dressing room curtain and ordering John to bring shirts and trousers similar to what he already wore. The bras and shoes were their own form of torture and he found himself feeling sorry for every woman he knew at the end of the experience. He would never belittle a woman's choice in dress again now that he knew how uncomfortable they must be at times. As soon as he had an outfit that looked at least presentable, they took a taxi directly back to the flat. John made some tea while Sherlock flopped down on the couch, massaging his feet. He hadn’t even taken a pair of shoes with much of a heel at all, but the balls of his feet were sore from bearing the greater portion of his weight.

John placed a cup of tea in front of Sherlock and settled back in the opposite corner of the couch with his own cup. “All right. Tell me everything you know about the case, everything about who could have done this to you.”

“I already know who it must have been,” Sherlock said, leaning forward. He knew sitting the way he was sitting, with his legs spread apart slightly and his elbows on his thighs, was very unladylike, but it was comfortable even in this new body. “It was the McManus matriarch. She was the one rumoured to practice magical arts.”

“But why would she turn you into a woman?” John asked.

Sherlock shut his eyes and thought back to their encounter. He had gone to ask questions about her son, there had been a slight argument, he had made a threat to come back with a policeman...oh. “I threatened to bring a policeman with me the next time I talked to her. I didn’t say ‘police officer,’ I said ‘policeman.’ I was thinking of Lestrade but she couldn’t have known that. She asked me what I thought a policeman could do, and I told her he could bring her errant son to justice. She said a man couldn’t do anything a woman couldn’t do. I said he very well could, since she’d obviously had little success reining in her son.”

“Yeah, that might have done it,” John said, wincing slightly.

“I know women who are extremely capable and intelligent,” Sherlock said defensively. “Just look at Molly, or even Sally Donovan. I have nothing against women. But when I get irritated I don't always think clearly.”

“I can see that,” John said. “All right. So all you need to do is apologise to her, ask her to lift the spell or curse or whatever this is.”

“Why should I apologise when she’s the one who misunderstood?” Sherlock asked, his eyes wide.

“You’re going to apologise and mean it, or else you're going to be stuck as a woman for the rest of your life.” John glared pointedly at his friend. “I don't want you as a woman any longer than I can help it.”

“Why?” Sherlock asked, looking at John intently.

John looked away. “It's not important,” he said gruffly.

“I think it is,” Sherlock replied, narrowing his eyes.

“No. It's not,” John said insistently. “Can we get back to the matter at hand?”

Sherlock did not like the rebuff. Something was weighing on his friend's mind, and it was something substantial. But he would let it go for now and focus on the case. “Fine. As you’re the expert in all things feminine, what do you propose we do next? Because I do not believe an apology will be sufficient.”

“Oh?” John asked looking back at Sherlock. “Why not?”

“I believe this is a punishment. I believe she intends me to live as a woman for some time. Hopefully not too long, but long enough to understand.”

“Then what do _you_ propose you do?”

“Go out in the world and be a woman, I suppose. But I would need help. I don’t know how to behave as a woman.”

“You really don't know how to behave as a man, either,” John pointed out with a slight chuckle.

Sherlock glared at him. “That is not funny.”

“I'm sorry. But it's true. Your social skills are rather stunted, even you have to admit that.”

“I suppose so,” Sherlock conceded. “Very well. I will need a guide. You know women well enough, I suppose. And if I am out with you men will most likely leave me alone.”

“Then you won't really get the full experience,” John said. “Women get treated very differently than men. If you have a man around you won't get the full brunt of how much of an arsehole most men are. And if this is a punishment, I think you need that. I think you need to experience the whole thing.”

Sherlock frowned. John might have some very valid points. “I’d best get started, then.” He stood up and eased the shoes back on. He had the feeling this was definitely going to be a tribulation, but he hoped if he bore it well this punishment of being trapped in a woman's body would end soon. But before it was over, he wanted to solve the mystery of why John wanted him to be back to normal so badly. Something was going on there, and he wanted to know what. He got the feeling it was something that would be very important to know when this was all over.


	3. Chapter 3

It was hell. It was pure, unadulterated hell, the excursion out into public. When he walked through the more proper parts of London, the places he frequented most in his own state, it was not so bad, other than the fact his feet were killing him. But he did not think he was getting the full experience, so he went to the seedier as the sun began to set. Even considering he was not wearing a dress or a skirt he still got catcalls and whistles, and when he rebuffed them the names he got called were derogatory and rude. He honestly had no idea how women could put up with it without getting violent. He was used to being disliked, but this was a whole new level of vitriol spewed at him. He hated every moment of it.

As it began to get dark he felt he’d had enough. He texted John to join him and made his way to the nearest pub to home. He didn't drink very often. He preferred to keep his mind sharp and focused, and alcohol didn't allow for that. But there were times a drink or two was just what he needed. Usually when he was somewhat out of sorts, but right now he was angry and he felt a stiff drink was just what he needed. When John joined him he already had a shot in front of him.

“It's abominable,” Sherlock said. “The way men treat women. It's rude and it shouldn't be that way.”

“You're in this mess because you said a man could fix a problem that a woman couldn’t,” John replied, taking a sip of his whiskey and cola. “Or at least what Mrs. McManus took from that conversation.”

“You should have come with me,” Sherlock muttered. If John had been there, very likely this whole thing would not have happened. He tipped his head back and downed his shot. He didn't plan on getting knackered, but he at least wanted to dull the rage slightly. He wanted to not be so sharp and focused, because thinking about it just made him angrier. And right now he knew anger would get him nowhere. He signaled for another shot. “I suppose this won’t be enough, this one excursion. What other torture do women go through?”

“There's their monthlies,” John replied frankly. “That's never pleasant for them. And if you're as female on the inside as you are on the outside, it might happen. And there's childbirth, but I honest to God hope you aren't a woman for that long. I don't think I could bear it.”

“Why not?” Sherlock asked. The look on John’s face surprised him when he asked that question, but it was not completely telling. Could he not bear any changes that might come with pregnancy, or was it more? They were veering back into the conversation they had started that morning, and Sherlock wanted answers this time. He wasn’t going to let John evade him this time. “What is so wrong with me being a woman?”

“I don't want to get into it,” John said tersely. “Can we just drop the subject?”

“John, I want to know,” Sherlock said.

“If you keep pressing I'm going to leave,” John said, taking another sip.

“I want an answer. You owe me one.”

“I _owe_ you one?” John asked incredulously. “Sherlock, I don't owe you anything. I don't want to talk about it and you keep pushing. I'm done with this conversation.” He slammed back the last of his drink. “Whenever you feel like talking to me about other things, come back home. I'll be there.” 

“John...” Sherlock said, turning to watch his friend leave. John kept walking, ignoring Sherlock completely. As John stepped through the door and left the pub Sherlock turned back to the bartender and signaled for a third shot as soon as he finished the second. He knew it would do no good to get drunk he wanted answers and it didn’t look like he was going to get them any time soon. He didn't want this barrier between them. John was his best friend, the one person in the world he trusted the most. He didn't want him angry at him, and now he was.

Some time later he’d lost count of how many shots he’d had. He was definitely feeling their effects, though. He never should have started drinking on an empty stomach. It was also possible the female body had a lower alcohol tolerance than he was used to. He finished off what was left in his glass and stood. He was slightly wobbly and was immensely glad he’d opted for low heels. He made his way to the door and went outside. It was dark, and quite late now. Given his earlier experience, it probably wouldn’t be a good idea for him to attempt to walk home in this condition. He hailed a cab and gave the driver his address. The first thing he saw when he entered the sitting room was a bottle of whiskey on the desk with a half full glass next to it. The level of alcohol in the bottle indicated it was not John’s first glass. John was standing by the window, looking out at the street below.

“I am back,” Sherlock announced, grabbing at the door frame as the room swayed slightly.

“Good. I shouldn't have left you, not when you're like this,” John said, turning. “I'm sorry.”

“I should be the one apologising,” Sherlock said, waving his hand magnanimously. “If you don't want to talk about it I won't make you.”

“Maybe I should,” John said. He picked up his glass and took a drink, as if to bolster himself, then set it back firmly on the table and met Sherlock’s eyes squarely. “I'm attracted to you.” He paused and licked his lips, waiting for some reaction. When Sherlock didn’t respond, John repeated, more firmly, “I find you attractive. And it's worse now that you're a woman. I think if I were to make a move now it would be more...socially acceptable. It would be easier.”

Sherlock was stunned. “Excuse me?” he said. Even as he said it, though, things began to fall into place. They were little things he had brushed off before, but John’s actions recently started to make more sense. He was surprised, certainly, but he wasn’t upset. He wasn’t quite sure how he felt at the moment, but affronted was definitely not on the list.

“You. I bloody well fancy you. I've wondered what it would be like to kiss you. To have a shag. And I felt all this before you became a woman.” He finished off the drink. “You aren’t attracted to women, and I have no idea how you feel about men. I’ve certainly never seen you show interest in anyone, of either sex, so I don't even know if you _can_ be attracted to someone. This might be new territory for both of us. I'm used to being rebuffed. But I don't think I can be rebuffed by you. I don't think our friendship could handle it. And yet here I am, spilling it all.” He poured himself another drink, but didn’t pick it up. “So go ahead. Tell me there's no attraction. Tell me you feel nothing for me other than a deep abiding friendship, if you even feel that for me anymore.”

“John,” Sherlock said quietly. This was a lot. It was almost too much, if he wanted to be truthful. He wasn't sure what he was feeling right now. John was John. John was his stability, his safe place. John was the one he trusted more than anyone else in the world. He didn't want to lose him. He wasn't sure if he felt the same way. He wasn't sure how he felt about anything right now. “I don't know what to say.”

“I know,” John said, lifting his glass to his lips. “I threw it all out at once and now you've got to think it through. I'm fairly sure I'll end up alone and miserable at the end of it, so I suppose I should steel myself for that.”

“Do you find it easier to be attracted to me as I am now?” Sherlock asked.

“I don't know if it's easier. I might not fight it as much if you stayed a woman.”

Sherlock took a step closer, reaching for the back of his chair for balance. “What do you want from me? Right now, I mean.”

John set his drink back down and lifted his eyes to Sherlock’s. “There's a lot I would like. An answer would be lovely, but I don't think I'm going to get it.” He ran his tongue over his bottom lip. “A kiss probably wouldn't hurt.”

“If I give you a kiss, will you give me time to think?” Sherlock asked.

John nodded. “I'll give you time, either way.”

He thought about it a moment. John was right; he did not show his attraction to anyone to the world at large. But he was curious. And it would make John happy if he did this. Both of those factors were influencing what he was thinking. Finally, he spoke. “Very well. I will give you a kiss. Just...be warned I've never kissed anyone before.”

“Never?” John asked, surprised.

“Never.” He paused. “I have felt attraction before. I just never acted on it.”

“Then I'm honoured,” John said quietly. He moved closer to Sherlock. “I won't do anything you're not comfortable with. It will be a light kiss. Easy and simple.”

“All right,” Sherlock said with a slight nod. He had to admit, he was slightly nervous. John had been right again that this was new territory for him. Still, he found himself slightly eager as well as very curious.

John reached over and put a hand on Sherlock's waist. He slid his hand around slightly and pulled Sherlock closer to him. Sherlock was unsure of where to put his hand, but after a moment John leaned in and pressed his lips against Sherlock's. It was an unusual sensation, this kiss, but John wasn't pushy about it and Sherlock relaxed slightly. He was fairly sure he wasn't doing it right, but it wasn't totally awful. And he had to admit, he didn’t feel disgusted or unsure. He felt comfortable. It was as though it was something he had wanted but didn’t _know_ he wanted until it was actually happening. That emboldened him slightly, and he increased the pressure of the kiss.

After a moment John pulled away. “For a first kiss that wasn't so bad,” he said quietly.

“I'm surprised,” Sherlock replied, slightly breathless. “I thought I was rubbish.”

“I had to stop, or else I'd take that further,” he replied.

“I do not think I would be ready for that,” Sherlock said. “But I would not mind another kiss. For comparison’s sake.”

“Is that my answer?” John asked. “That you don't want to push me away?”

“No, John. I don't want to push you away.” He stared intently into John’s eyes. “Do you want me like this?”

“I want you period,” he said quietly. “I want you however I can get you, male or female.”

“Then you can have me,” Sherlock said. “No matter what happens, whether I return to my original state or I stay a woman, I will not push you away. I promise.”

“Do you know what you're offering?” John asked, pulling Sherlock closer.

“I'm fairly sure,” Sherlock replied with a nod. “I'll give it to you freely.”

“Then I'll take it,” John said, kissing Sherlock again, a bit harder this time. And as Sherlock kissed him back he realized that regardless of what happened next, regardless of whether he ever got back to normal, this new turn in his relationship with John was only a good thing. He felt something in him open up and fill and he only hoped that the feeling lasted for a very long time.


	4. Chapter 4

There was a lot of talking done until late in the night about how to move forward with things after the kiss. Eventually the effects of the alcohol began to wear off and sleep overtook them.

When Sherlock woke up the next morning he was still a woman. He hadn’t expected the curse to be shortlived, because he felt there was still much he had to learn from this punishment, but it was definitely causing problems that needed to be deal with in the meantime.

He and John went and bought more clothes after breakfast, enough to last a week. When they returned, John made tea and Sherlock sat in the sitting room, lost in thought. He was not unsure about being in a relationship with John, but he was unsure how to proceed. This was entirely new territory for him, and there was so much he had to learn. He had the feeling John would continue to be patient with him, just as he had been when they were merely friends. It helped that John didn’t push for anything, telling him the night before he would let things unfold at the pace Sherlock set. He was grateful for that.

One of the things they hadn’t discussed yet was the option of Sherlock remaining a woman. Sherlock very much wanted to go back to being male, but he thought that perhaps John might not want that, as dating a female version of him would be more socially acceptable. He decided he should bring it up before they went any further with trying to reverse the curse. 

“What would you say if I told you we should do nothing about the curse?” he asked as John brought the tea out to the sitting room.

John went quiet for a bit, and Sherlock was about to say something to prompt him out of his silence when he finally spoke. “Do you want to be a woman for the rest of your life?” he asked, looking at Sherlock intently.

“It would make things easier for you,” Sherlock said.

“It doesn’t matter if things are easier for me. It matters what’s easier for _you_ because it’s your body. I’ll still care for you and want to pursue a relationship with you whether you’re a man or a woman.” He grinned a bit. “Remember, I was attracted to you when you were a man.”

“What would you like?” Sherlock asked.

“I’d like you to do whatever’s best for you. If you think living as a woman day after day for however long you’re alive is better than going back, then that’s fine. I’ll support that. If you want to go back to being a man, I’ll help you however I can.”

“I would like to go back to being a man,” Sherlock admitted. “It is interesting being a woman, and I have the feeling my views on them will change greatly after this experience, but it is rather strange and I don’t think I would ever be completely comfortable as a woman.” He took a sip of his tea. “And since I don’t want anyone who knows me to see me like this – other than you, of course - I am more or less in hiding. I want my freedom back.”

John smiled a bit more. “Having you cooped up in the flat any longer could be dangerous to everyone’s health.”

“Precisely.” Sherlock looked over at John, giving him a faint smile. He had never been one to smile, but he would always try for John, even if it felt unnatural on his face. Perhaps with time he would get more accustomed to it, because he had the feeling John could make him happy in their new relationship. He hoped he could, at any rate. “So, we need to track Mrs. McManus down, see if I’ve fulfilled the terms of her punishment.”

“Do you think you have?” John asked before sipping his own tea.

“I have certainly gained an appreciation for a woman’s point of view,” he said. “And while I don’t think it was inaccurate to suggest that Lestrade would have a better chance of stopping her son than she did, I never intended it to be a slight on her as a woman. She is simply too emotionally involved. However, I take her point that the way it came out could be construed as misogynistic, and I do regret that. If only because it lead to such a catastrophic outcome.”

“Stop before that last bit and she might let you off the hook,” John replied with a sigh. “All right. Let’s get to tracking her down. Trying to get you back to rights.”

“After tea,” Sherlock said.

“All right. After tea,” John said with a nod.

\--

It was hard to find her, harder than Sherlock thought it would be. He had to spend three more days as a woman before he finally managed to track her down. Her son had finally been caught by the police, and she went to visit him. John had asked to be alerted of such a circumstance, and they waited outside the detention facility and followed her when she left. She did not go to the home where Sherlock had met her initially, instead going to a flat in a different part of town.

As they approached the flat it was pouring down rain, but they found her waiting for them outside, standing under an umbrella with large pink flowers. She went to the door of the flat, and then turned in their direction. “I felt you following me,” she said when they came within speaking distance.

“You couldn’t have possibly felt our presence,” Sherlock said disparagingly. “You saw us, perhaps, or expected we might try and trace you through your son.”

“Haven’t you learned not to underestimate me yet? I cast the spell. You didn’t think I that I might include a way to track you?” she asked with a smug smile. “I know you’ve been trying to find me. Today I let you.”

“Sherlock…” John nudged him in the side with his elbow.

“Yes, all right, point taken,” Sherlock said grudgingly.

“That’s better. Now, you want your life back, Mr. Holmes…or should I say Miss Holmes?” She pursed her lips and looked him over from head to foot.

“I very much want my life back,” Sherlock said, flipping up the collar of his greatcoat against the rain that wasn’t being stopped by the umbrella John was holding over him.

“The real question is, have you learned your lesson?” she asked, shifting her hold on her own umbrella. “Do you still believe men are better than women?”

“I would like to state for the record that I never thought that at all. However , over the past few days I’ve experienced how such off-hand comments can perpetuate a societal imbalance. It is actually quite difficult to be a woman, harder than I had thought. There may be some things men can do physically that women can’t, but in all other ways men are not better than women.” Sherlock looked at her. “I think that is the lesson you wanted me to learn.”

“It appears you have,” she said with a nod. “I just hope it sticks. The world needs fewer men like you were before all this. Women have had to fight for everything. We should be treated better.”

“Yes, you should,” Sherlock replied.

Mrs. McManus put her hand on the door and opened it, but paused before going inside. “I’ll remove the curse tonight. When you wake up tomorrow you’ll be a man again. Hopefully a better one.” She slipped inside, leaving Sherlock and John standing in the rain.

John turned to Sherlock. “Not bad, Holmes,” he said.

“It’s certainly not an experience I wish to repeat,” Sherlock replied with a grimace. “It will be very nice not to be a woman anymore.”

“You know, I think I would have enjoyed seeing you in a dress,” John said with a smirk as they went to the curb to hail a cab.

“That is bloody well never going to happen,” Sherlock said with a scowl.

“I know,” John said, chuckling. “Would have been interesting, though.”

Even as a woman Sherlock had the magic touch hailing them a cab, and one stopped for them in a matter of moments. They got in and talked about other things until they were safely back at home.

Once inside and out of their wet clothes they met back in the sitting room. “Tomorrow you’ll be back to being you. It’ll be nice to have the old you back,” John remarked.

“Are you more attracted to me as a man or as a woman?” Sherlock asked, curious.

John tilted his head slightly as he thought about it. “A man, I think. Not that you aren’t an unattractive woman, but I think I prefer you as a man. I’m more used to it.”

“Do you think you could have got used to me if I had had to remain a woman for the rest of my life?”

“I think I could have,” John said with a nod. “It would have taken some time, but I care for you regardless of how you look. I would have been fine eventually.”

“It is good to know that,” Sherlock said with a faint smile.

“Well, it’s the truth.” John stood up. “I think we should have a cuppa and warm up. It was bloody freezing out there.”

“Yes, it was quite cold. I never realised how thin women’s trousers were before today”

“Just another reason it will be good for you to be a man again,” John said with a grin as he made his way into the kitchen.

Sherlock settled into his seat, agreeing with John wholeheartedly. Yes, it would be very good to be a man again. He just hoped he could actually go to sleep that evening so it would feel as though the change came faster.

\--

He was a bit groggy when he woke up the next morning. He had started to get used to being a woman, so it was quite noticeable when he realised he did indeed have his old body back. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and made his way to the mirror. It took a moment for him to remember how to walk as a man, but he made it there with less trouble than he had thought he might have. He took a good look at himself. Yes, the breasts were gone, and when he pulled his pyjama trousers out slightly he saw the other important parts were there.

The smell of coffee coming from the kitchen lured him out. John was already there, pouring himself a cup. He glanced up when Sherlock came in and grinned. “You’re back to yourself now. Good.” He handed the cup to Sherlock and pulled another one down. “It must be nice.”

“It is,” Sherlock replied, thankful his voice was back to its normal baritone state. It was good to hear. “I’m pleased you’re happy about the old state of affairs as well.”

“Well, I wasn’t looking forward to finding out if you were a woman inside and out,” John said with a chuckle. “It would have been a nightmare if you had had a monthly, I think.”

“We will never know,” Sherlock said ominously as he fixed his coffee. Then he took a sip. “So. It’s back to business as usual then.”

“Aside from our relationship, yeah,” John said as he began to fix his own coffee. “You do still want that, right?”

“I do,” Sherlock said with a nod. “That has not changed.”

“Good.” John sipped his coffee. “I guess maybe we can go out on a date, if you want.”

“I think I would like that.” He gave John a wider grin than he normally gave him, and got a wide one in return. Yes, it was good to be back to normal, and he had learned from the experience and be a better man. And he had found something new and surprising and good with John, and that pleased him. His life was arguably better than it had been before, and for that, he was surprisingly thankful.


End file.
